


A Normal Day

by Pacifia



Series: Golden Age One-shots [7]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pacifia/pseuds/Pacifia
Summary: It's a normal day for the Kings. Slippers. Tea. And bats.
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Peter Pevensie
Series: Golden Age One-shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985065
Kudos: 12





	A Normal Day

"Please, Peter?"

"No. Susan will have my head if she finds out," Peter replied, bringing up his feet to rest on the table, trying his hardest to ignore the melting chocolate eyes of his brother.

"But she won't! She's in Galma! Again." Then Edmund huffed. "If only Lucy hadn't gone with her. She'd agree with me!"

"Do you know how much you scared us with that fever? You're staying in bed," Peter told him, internally moaning at the amazing taste of Mrs Beaver's pastry. He took another bite. Edmund licked his lips, his mouth watering. But he shook it off.

"Won't even let me go to the balcony? I'll wear my slippers! Promise!"

"Ed, no," he thought his voice was firm. That Edmund wouldn't bother arguing further. But his little brother persisted. _Really_ Persisted. He gave him the wide eyes again. Oh, and the trembling lower lip. The sobs! That was the last string!

"Alright," Edmund said, sniffing, crossing his thin arms over his chest. He gazed out of the balcony, sniffing again. Peter wanted to finish the pastry but Edmund's sobs were really starting to bother him. He hated when his siblings cried. Especially Edmund or Lucy.

"Ed?"

"I'm fine," Edmund said, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. The robe was so loose for his thin figure now, Peter wondered if Edmund even weighed anything.

"Edmund?" Peter asked, putting down his pastry, flinging his feet off the wooden table, making it creak. Edmund didn't look at him. "Okay, just five minutes."

"Thank you!"

"Five—"

But Edmund was already in the balcony, dramatically breathing in the fresh air, making an arc with his hands, as if he'd just entered a whole new word. Peter chuckled, joining his brother in three long strides. "Edmund?" Edmund raised his eyebrows at him. "You aren't wearing your slippers."

"Oh, bother! I'm fine, Peter. Come on, sit down." Peter was about to when Edmund yelled, "No! Wait. Fetch me some tea first. I'll wait." Edmund stared at him. "I'm waiting, Peter. Go on." Peter sighed, relenting. He walked out of the door, and glanced around. But only the two faun guards were there.

"Can you ask the cook to bring us some tea, cousins?"

The fauns—new recruits, Peter concluded, seeing their excited stomps of hoofs—bowed, nodding, and were then bumping into each other's shoulder, congratulating themselves, the whole way to the stairs.

"Peter, is the tea here yet?" Edmund shouted from the balcony.

"I'm still here, Ed. You didn't need to shout."

And in mere seconds, Peter was sitting beside Edmund on the white, wooden chair placed next to the table which had strange _curled_ legs. Peter furrowed his brows at it. "That table—"

"Narnia is beautiful, isn't she?"

Peter blinked at his brother who was leaning in his chair; he wrapped his cloak around himself more securely, trying hard not to shiver. "She is. But she's also cold this time of the year. Let's go inside. Ed."

"No!" Edmund exclaimed, shaking off Peter's hand. He turned back to the sea, his muscles relaxing. He let out a long, calm breath, taking the beauty of the view. "The other place wasn't like this. It was all smoky and polluted. And was there a war when we left? I always wished for a place like Narnia."

Peter frowned, seeing his brother shiver. "Ed, let's—"

"Peter, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever imagine we'd be Kings, and fight wars, and get swooned over by girls. Girls always made faces at me at Boarding school."

"Edmund, you're dizzy—"

"And well, I deserved it. I was a brat, wasn't I? I was never nice to Mum. And I always teased Lu. And fought with you."

"Ed—" Peter's voice sounded concerned, alarmed. But Edmund went on.

"Do you remember…that…that time…" Edmund said between laughs, "when a girl broke your nose? You were seven, I think."

"Edmund, we need to—"

"And the mornings Dad would find us in the same bed because there was a storm the previous night?"

"Edmund!"

"And when Grandfather would tell us horror stories and I wouldn't stop crying for hours. Well, it wasn't my fault; I was three!"

" _Edmund!"_

"What?!" Edmund growled, turning to Peter. But there was a problem. He couldn't turn. There was no Peter beside him. And he realized he was moving. He dared to looked down. "Oh, Aslan. What in the—" He looked up. "A bat? Oh, not again!"

"We'll find you!" Peter was screaming from the balcony.

Edmund twisted to glance at his brother. "But my tea!"


End file.
